Who Done It? Page #2

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You mean I beat you?

Ain't that a shame... a little kid

like that trying to outsmart me.

Sorry!

Y-Yo...

Hello, Mr. Turner.

Oh, hello.

Oh, by the way, Miss Little

asked me to tell ya that she...

Sorry. I never heard

of the lady.

Oh, hello, Miss Collins.

Oh, hello.

Oh, boys. You want to take extra

special care of Miss Collins here.

You may want to get on the air someday,

and she's secretary to Colonel Andrews.

Not Colonel Andrews, the head

of whole networks? That's right.

- Well, you leave her to us.

- I'll take a chocolate malted.

Chocolate malted?

What flavor?

Aw, you heard what she

said. Come on. Hey, boy.

This is our golden opportunity.

That's what you think.

Listen to me. You've got to

make a play for this girl.

She's Andrews' secretary.

Chances are if she likes you,

she'll introduce us to Colonel Andrews

and he'll buy our radio program.

Yeah? But Chick... Sure. What?

She ain't pretty. What's

that got to do with it?

It's got a lot to do

with it. Oh, you're crazy.

I've seen better heads on

malted milks. Here, here. Please.

Be careful with your

remarks. Get me a glass.

Go ahead, mix...

Contact!

Look, Mr. Turner, it's none of my

business, but Miss Little feels bad...

Let's forget the whole thing, shall we?

Stop it!

Off contact!

That's it. Now go ahead. Okay.

Now, get over there and start

pitching. But she don't appeal to me.

So what? You kiss her in

the dark. Okay. Good luck!

Drink hearty... What are you

doin'? Get over there. Go ahead.

I'm sorry you feel

that way about it.

Here's your malted,

beautiful.

Me?

Yes, you.

After all, he told me

that I gotta... Shh. Quiet.

- You are very cute.

- May I have a straw, please?

Help yourself, madam.

Thanks. Help yourself.

Anything at all. Say, do you

think that Colonel Andrews...

could use a couple

of crackerjack radio writers?

There's a swell job upstairs,

writing the Murder at Midnight show.

I just tossed it away.

Hey, that's just for us.

- Aren't you two soda jerks?

- Oh, no. We just took this job yesterday.

- Yeah. We don't even know what

we put in your malted milk.

We're only here to be close to

the radio producers. That's all.

We write our own radio mysteries. Sure.

We play the detectives,

and we solve the mysteries.

Would you like to hear our

latest yarn? Huh? Sure you would.

Come on. Let's read it

for her. Give it to us.

Here. I got a mike in my hand. Get a mike.

It's a prison mystery entitled, "The

Midget Gets the Chair," or, "Small Fry. "

"It's a dark and stormy night.

Rain is falling.

All you can see in the street

is muck and mire. "

Yeah. I'm Muck. I'm Meyer.

Hiya, Meyer. Pretty good. We're

the detectives. Hiya, Muck.

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